Surviving the treatment
by idioticonion
Summary: In the New York Dollhouse, one of the Actives is being prepared for an engagement. Set AU of HIMYM Season 3.


**Surviving the treatment**

"Did I fall asleep?" The Doll asked him.

"For a little while," the technician replied, in his softest, most gentle voice. Just like he's been taught. Just like he'd witnessed a hundred times when he'd visited the Dollhouse over in LA for his training on the Chair and the equipment surrounding it.

The Doll blinked slowly and turned his wide, trusting eyes on the technician. "Can I go now?" He asked innocently.

"If you like," the technician said, allowing the Doll to get to his feet and stretch. He noticed the Doll was limping. "Yankee?" He said. "You should visit Dr Bell and get that leg fixed."

The Doll looked down, confused. "It hurts," he said, dumbly. "I need to be my best."

As the Doll hobbled across the hall to Dr Bell's office, the technician thinned his lips. "Yeah, you really do…" He muttered under his breath.

*--*--*

Later, alone in the imprinting room, the technician reviewed the files while talking on his Bluetooth headset to his boss, who was located nearly two and a half thousand miles away in California.

"Well hello New York!" The perky voice said on thte other end of the line, ringing loudly in his ears.

"New Jersey, actually," The technician muttered. "Although technically we are in New York, Mr Brink."

"Hey, minion… you're throwing me off my game here!" His boss protested. "Less jibber jabber. I gotta concentrate."

"What are you giving him this time?" The technician asked. "This is a long-term engagement, right?"

"Oh, this is the standard Barney Stinson imprint, but with just a few… modifications." Topher Brink laughed and the technician could hear the rattle of fingers running over a keyboard in the background.

"What kind of modifications?" The technician asked.

"Ehh… " Topher drawled. "A smatter of Japanese, a whole lot of Korean… Half the brain of a top stock market analyst… Maybe a smidgen of arms-dealer…" For a minute, the technician thought it was a bad line before he realised that what he presumed to be static was actually his boss's cackling laugh.

Mr Brink sure did enjoy his work. The technician took a lot of abuse from his boss but it was totally worth it to work with one of the brightest minds of all time, even if he rarely ever saw the guy in person.

"Korean… Arms-dealer? Who the hell is this guy?" The technician asked.

"Hey, NYC, what have I told you about asking questions?"

"Always ask them?" The technician shook his head with a smile. The patterns on his screen changed and he noticed a purple smudge covering some of the right cortex. "What's that?"

"Libido…" His boss replied. "It's a powerful motivator."

"And that?" The technician asked, about a yellow marker that was transposed over the rest.

"An intense sense of loyalty."

"In a heartless, corporate horn-dog? Isn't that contradictory?"

The technician could almost hear the smirk in his boss's voice. "You'd be surprised how contradictory most real human beings are."

As in most things, it seemed that Topher Brink had a point.

"In any case," Mr Brink continued. "In this case, the engagement calls for a very specific, very subtle combination of factors. As usual, this is something that calls for only the most master-y-est of masters."

The technician acknowledged his genius. "But with these markers, isn't there a risk? I mean, what if the active attaches himself… romantically?"

Brink laughed. "Oh my minion. That's not gonna happen."

The technician shrugged. It wasn't his business. He'd leave it to the Active's handler to worry about this stuff. Or the House Director. "Shall I give him a treatment right now?"

"How's Yankee Doodle's leg?" His boss asked.

"Not too bad. I'd say he's good to go?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "If Dr Frankenstein says he's well, then throw him back in the Chair and send him back out. We've got Altrucell breathing down our necks about this one."

The technician nodded. "Okay boss," he said, but the call had already been cut.

The file named "Barney Stinson" was still open on his wall screen and the technician flipped through the markers one more time, loading a cartridge into the Chair. It still seemed as though…

But nah, if Barney Stinson ever fell in love what was the worst that could happen?  
_  
__What was the worst that could happen with an arms dealing, Korean-speaking sleeper agent?_

He was still trying to talk himself out of his concerns when Yankee was brought back up to the lab.


End file.
